Follow Me...

No Phones At Funerals

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

"Autumn." Mr Harris pushed, well he didn't push Mr Harris never pushed during their sessions. He just didn't let her lie.

His office was a world away from the rest of the school. The smell of marijuana replaced with the scent of burning incense. It was a quiet morning before the start of school, and they'd been going over how she was feeling about being back at school, and then they moved onto Sandy.

"I'm tired ok, I'm so so tired I can barely keep my eyes open, and I'm sad, so sad about everything that it hurts and I'm scared and then I'm guilty because I'm more guilty than I am sad which makes me feel sadder which makes me feel more tired." She pushed the words out feeling pathetic as she faced her feelings even if they sounded a little indelicate. She'd agreed with her father that she'd go to Mr Harris' before school twice a week and to Doctor Mallory's after school twice school, in a way it felt like honouring Sandy by having her mind podded and poked. All in all she should had the best mental health of anyone in Doves End, but instead, she was barely keeping it together,

"That sucks." Its casualness and his laidback, almost Southern drawl made her laugh and laughing felt good.

"But it's valid, you're dealing with a new normal, and that's constantly changing every day it's what every teenager has to deal with, and it's awful, plus you're dealing with the horrible events, more horrible events than one person should have to deal with." He explained. He wasn't as direct and as rigid as Doctor Mallory who thought she should deal with her trauma directly, but he wasn't as condescending as some of the others had been.

He couldn't have been more than two years out of college; today he'd shaved and cut his hair lifting her initial 'old hippie' impression instead he just looked like one of her older cousin's friends. Although he still wore a shark tooth necklace which always gave off that earthy vibe so at odds with the buttoned-up teachers at the school.

He then moved onto to talking about the five stages of grief and Autumn restrained herself from rolling her eyes. Hadn't she spent the past six months doing just that? But before she could say anything, Mr Harris sat up in his chair and fiddling with the sleeves of his moss-green sweater.

"Sometimes they come all once, we've trained ourselves to look at it like it's a straight line, but it isn't," He continued, "Sometimes you're angry and bargaining on one day and sometimes you're sad, and in denial for the next couple, acceptance doesn't come all at once

"It just feels like sometimes I'm about to break." She admitted staring at her shoes; the brown boots bought on a whim one night last week- Autumn convinced herself they were the thing that was going to sort her life out. She'd spent so long picking an outfit out that morning, the checked skirt, the white turtleneck and the denim jacket all so she could take a couple of pictures and then feel uncomfortable for the rest of the day as the cold wind hit her bare legs.

So much of her time was spent working on feeling normal, making sure her Instagram still looked great, making sure she always spent the right amount of time with her different circles of friends and making sure her grades didn't slip any worse than they already had. And it was exhausting, being herself had never felt like so much work.

"Then let's discuss some healthy habits for coping with the day-to-day." Mr Harris offered.

They spent the remaining half an hour going through ways of dealing with emotions, how to know the signs of a panic attack, and how to calm herself down. Mr Harris talked her through the feelings of emptiness and how being more vocal with the people around her could make all the difference.

She felt that deep heaviness in her chest started to shrink; it all didn't seem so bad when he talked about it.

"And of course- healthy meal choices, I know it sounds boring but feeling sluggish because of food can bring down your whole system."

Autumn let

"What's so funny?" He lifts an eyebrow; he didn't look angry at her sudden outburst. And laughing felt good even if the reason was ridiculous.

"Sorry it's just- Sandy used to say pretty much the same thing."

In Freshman Year, when she'd first got accepted by Sandy and her group, girls around them were eating pretty much nothing to try and get thin. But Sandy had practically forced them into eating a full meal every lunch insisting she couldn't stand to hang out with 'boring, hangry bitches.' Sure in the years after Sandy had changed, seeing herself on the screen before she saw herself as a person, but she always kept that little bit of herself, and she still ate something every lunch.

"Do you want to talk about Sandy?" Mr Harris asked ever so quietly. Just like that she remembered Sandy was dead, it was so strange how people felt so alive in your mind even when every rational bone in your body knew they weren't.

She continued looking at her shoes, grateful that he was pushing her instead, he just started talking.

"Sandra Quinn was a...extraordinary girl, who touched many people's lives and it's a tragedy she was taken so soon, I have never met a teenager with that level of confidence or self-assurance-"

"You knew her?" Autumn asked, genuinely surprised looking up from her boots, Mr Harris' eyes grew wide, but he explained;

"I had the pleasure of meeting her a few times before summer break; she was very big on mental health."

Autumn smiled; that was the Sandy she remembered.

The bell rang; the two instinctively got up. They had an appointment to speak again on Thursday; she decided then would be a better time to discuss her feelings towards Ryan; she could handle that part of her life.

"Thanks, Mr Harris, this was helpful," Autumn said, cringing at the way she sounded sarcastic even when she was genuine. But Mr Harris just laughed, his small bringing creases to the corners of his blue eyes.

"I think we know each other well enough that you can call me Carl."